


Upon The Hearth the fire is red

by Titelly



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Bilbo Baggins Dies, Character Death, Cold, Gen, Starvation, hobbit biology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-06 01:52:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15876036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titelly/pseuds/Titelly
Summary: Hobbits weren’t meant to wander, to travel, and if they did they’d require food, heaps of food. Because hobbit biology was different from men, from elves, from dwarves. Bilbo knew this, but no one else did.





	Upon The Hearth the fire is red

Upon the hearth the fire is red,  
Beneath the roof there is a bed;

Bilbo trailed behind the company of dwarves, his feet ached and there was a desert in his mouth, but he kept going. None of the others complained, so he didn’t. In fact, most of the others were joyfully humming under their breath, or singing loudly in their gruff voices.   
Hobbits weren’t meant to wander, to travel, and if they did they’d require food, heaps of food. Because hobbit biology was different from men, from elves, from dwarves.  
Bilbo knew this, but no one else did. 

But not yet weary are our feet,  
Still round the corner we may meet

Hobbits have an incredibly fast metabolism, they burned through a man’s meal in a small couple of hours. It was why hobbits ate as much, and as often as they did. They needed it, or else they’d slowly waste away. It was common knowledge in the Shire, but also in Bree. Apparently it never spread past Bree.  
The company fed him once a day, twice if the leader, Thorin Oakensheild the royal dwarf, was in a good mood. It wasn’t enough. One meal day was not enough to sustain a fully grown hobbit.

A sudden tree or standing stone  
That none have seen but we alone.

His clothes were starting to become baggy. He now needed to use a piece of rope to keep his once perfectly tailored hobbit-trousers from hanging low on his hips.  
He was paler to. His healthy flush of color slowly fading from his face, leaving warm freckles against cold pale skin. And he was cold. Oh so cold. His fingers like ice, the hair on his feet no longer enough to keep him warm.  
But he didn’t wish for socks, or Valar forbid, shoes. No, he was a respectable hobbit, and respectable hobbits didn’t even so much as think about shoes.

Tree and flower and leaf and grass,  
Let them pass! Let them pass!

Dinner was undoubtedly his favorite part of the day. He ate slowly, vainly trying to make the small amount he was given last forever. It didn’t. Like always the food was eaten and Bilbo dug out his pipe from one of his many pockets in his now several-sizes-to-big coat. With numbing fingers he clumsily lit his pipe and brought it to his mouth. His hands remained cold, as did his body. The weed didn’t even grant him the illusion of warmth anymore. His body was shutting down, Bilbo knew it but couldn’t bring himself to really care anymore.   
He was so cold.

Hill and water under sky,  
Pass them by! Pass them by!

One particularly beautiful evening with a breathtaking sunset Bilbo Baggins went to sleep surrounded by a company of dwarves, and he didn’t wake up.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. This didn't turn out how I planned. It was gonna be one of these "the company notices and Bilbo is fine" fluff-fics, but no my mind had other plans. Sorry if its rushed, I wrote this at 1am.


End file.
